Stop, now, what's that sound
by Rinne
Summary: An ordinary day, no longer ordinary. COMPLETE


**Title**: Stop, now, what's that sound

**Recipient**: valeriev84 at exchangen3

**Rating**: PG-13

**Genre**: Gen

**Warnings**: Character death

**Author's Notes**: Title taken from the song "For what's worth". Thank you to Cha Oseye Tempest Thrain and dreambrother89 for the beta.

**Disclaimer**: Own nothing, not being paid.

**Summary**: An ordinary day, no longer ordinary.

**Spoilers** Up to the end of the 4th season, set after the last episode aired in the US.

* * *

"Well, his car's here."

Don lent forward to confirm Hayley's observation. Yep, red four-door Mustang, right plates. This time, they were lucky that he was home. The only possible witness to the murders and it had taken three days to finally track him down. Every place he should have been, he wasn't. It had felt like they'd been taking part in a wild goose chase around LA.

"About time," Don commented, unhooking his seatbelt and opening the door. "Here's hoping it's worth it."

"Considering our luck so far, it'll turn out he wasn't even there and this will have been a complete waste of our time." Hayley rolled her eyes at him over the top of the car.

Don pointed at her, a smile skirting around the edges of his lips as he looked over the top of his sunglasses. "Don't try to doom this investigation, Agent LaRue. We need all the help we can get."

"Yes, Agent Eppes, sir!" She threw off a mock salute as they walked together up the path to the house and he shook his head. Colby really was a bad influence -- three weeks and Hayley already joked around like she'd been a part of the team for months.

Don focussed back on the house. It was very ordinary looking and in need of a decent paint job and a new roof. Grass grew high around the edges of the path, making up for its lack under the giant tree that shaded almost a quarter of the yard. Their witness definitely wasn't into yard maintenance. A ginger cat sat in the grass, watching and studying them.

Seeing no doorbell, Don rapped his knuckles against the plain, yellowed wood and turned to partially face Hayley, his sunglasses again hiding his eyes from hers. A curtain twitched off to their right, their witness' face appearing briefly.

"Twenty bucks says he isn't our guy."

"I'll take those odds," Don agreed. Hearing the lock turn, he faced the door again, professional mask back in place. The door swung open. "Mr…"

* * *

Don's last thought wasn't for his family, or for Robin. It wasn't poetic and it wasn't inspiring. It wasn't something that would be quoted for generations were it known, or leave everyone wondering what he'd meant. He didn't have a chance to lament the fact that he hadn't been particularly religious, or to wonder whether he'd just stop or whether there was something more.

His last thought consisted of one word.

It was a good thing it was a short one -- he didn't have time for anything more.

* * *

As Don jerked back and fell, their witness shifted his aim and Hayley felt an explosion in her chest. Her legs gave out underneath her even as she was still trying to draw her weapon, still operating on autopilot, still not believing that it had all gone wrong so suddenly. The gun was finally in her hand and she raised it up, shooting for centre mass. He dropped as he fired again, the shot going wild. She hoped that it didn't hit anyone on the street. The gun pressed her hand down to the ground, too heavy and requiring too much effort to hold any longer. The witness didn't get up again and his gun rested on the entryway floor, dark liquid seeping towards it.

A slight turn to the left and she could see Don. He stared at the sky, unmoving, red crowning his head like a halo. She didn't feel sad... she didn't really feel much of anything. She just needed to rest for a while, and then everything would be okay.

* * *

Two federal agents walked up the drive -- neither of them Don, neither of them a member of his team. Alan saw them from the window and he didn't need to hear the words.

His son would never be coming home.

* * *

Prompt: Don gets shot in the head (can be death!fic or permanent injury!fic).


End file.
